Family Connections
by princess-sunshine2003
Summary: Full summary inside. Jazz is Harry's family, that family that he often fantasized would come and take him from the Dursleys but never did.
1. Prologue

Summary: Jazz was once a respected mamber of the wizarding community. Until the awful events of Halloween, 1981, when her world came crashing down. After fifteen years, she is starting to remember who she was and who she is. And maybe, just maybe, she can be the family that young Harry Potter so desperately needs.  
Prologue  
**Jazz' POV  
**I had everything. I was a successful member of the Order of the Phoenix, under cover at St. Mungo's. James was, of course, deeply embedded in the ranks of the top Aurors of our day, as was Lily. Remus was employed; I'm not sure where, but Dumbledore was keeping him busy. And, naturally, Sirius was where James was, though not quite as successful.  
When we were younger, people used to say James and I looked alike. Sure, we were both gifted with Dad's impossibly soft black hair, though I'd inherited a bit of Mum's wave while James was stuck with a mess. And, of course, James took after Dad with his hazel eyes and near-sightedness. I got Grandmum's navy-blue, almost violet eyes. Both of us are kind of pale, skinny and bony, though I, fortunately, have a few more curves than my twin brother.  
In school, we could match each other in any class. Except he was always better at Quidditch than me. That's all right; I wasn't jealous because I'm afraid of heights. It used to make us laugh. I was actually physically stronger than him, though his reflexes were infinitely better. I guess that's the difference between our athletic capabilities: I could have played a Muggle sport with a lot of running and jumping easier than him.  
But I always had a little something James never had. I'm sort of like a prescient. I can see some things before they happen. Ironic, though, when you take note of the fact that the girl who can see the future, can't remember her own past. Or…couldn't, rather. I couldn't. At the time of the telling of this story, obviously, I could remember it. But during the actual events described in this story, I was suffering from acute amnesia.  
As far as I remember, I've had what I call 'true-dreams.' Not always, and mostly when I was asleep, though a few happened when I was awake. I remember one particularly…graphic true-dream that happened during a particularly hot Potions class, with my brother's best friend as my partner. Needless to say, Sirius and I didn't end up getting good marks on that day's lesson… The dreams are like miniature prophecies, premonitions that come true. I tried to stop one once, but it didn't work. I came to dread having them, even the good ones. It sort of ruined the fun, you know? But some of them were terrible. And there was nothing I could do to stop them from happening.  
That's how this whole mess started, I suppose. With one of my true-dreams. The first time I had it was the day Lily finally said yes when James asked her out. That night, I dreamed a flash of green light and an evil laugh. The second time was the day they announced their engagement. That time it was the green light, an explosion, a scream, and the laugh. The third time was the day of the wedding. I actually had that one during the wedding ceremony, which was almost a disaster, because I nearly fell into Lily. Sirius managed to dive gallantly across the dais and catch me, holding me upright throughout the rest of the ceremony. I heard my brother's voice that time, telling Lily to take Harry and run.  
The fourth time, the first time I actually saw people in the dream, happened on the day Lily announced to the family that she was pregnant. I struggled to block that one from my memory, and most likely would have succeeded if my nephew and godson hadn't been born nine months later.  
On the day Harry James Potter was born, I had the worst vision yet, as I held my nephew and godson in my arms.  
_It was dark that night, very dark. The littlest Muggle children had gone to sleep, their mouths sticky from all the Halloween candy they'd collected, especially the spectacular candy the Potters always gave out up at Godric's Hollow.  
James and Lily, a bit tired at the prospect of the Muggle Halloween party in the village, thanked Jazz profusely as they swept out of the house in their robes, the one day a year they could wear them in Muggle society without worrying. Jazz smiled and waved, keeping one eye on the still-crawling Harry by her feet. She loved playing with her nephew.  
"So, Harry, what are we going to do while Mum and Dad are out tonight?" She picked the toddler up and smiled at his baby giggle as he reached out chubby fists for her. "You hungry?" He chortled again when she tickled his tummy with a raspberry. "Let's go see what Mum and Dad left us for dinner!" Carrying her nephew into the kitchen, Lily heard a soft click, like a lock being sprung and turned, curiously, towards the front door. "Sirius? That you? Come on, Harry and I are going to eat dinner! Join us; we'll make a glorious mess!" She waited, but no one came and then she gave up, deciding she'd heard something, and continued digging through the cupboards. "How about some pumpkin pasties, Harry? With pumpkin juice. I know my little nephew loves his pumpkin juice!" She handed the baby a sippy cup full of the orange juice and watched as Harry contentedly drank it. "You are easily pleased, little one." He babbled at her a moment and went back to his juice.  
With a crack, Sirius appeared in the kitchen, a grin on his face. Jazz glared at him, hands on her hips, but smiled reluctantly. "Jazz, love, you're looking ravishing this evening," he said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.  
"Not interested, Sirius, how many times do I have to tell you?" she shot back. The friendly banter was second nature to them both after so many years of being mutual best friends with James. "Come to join Harry and I in our Halloween feast?" "No, actually. Since we all have a free night, and we're all trying to relax, I thought I'd take Harry off your hands and go see Peter. He's probably lonely, going into hiding, and I thought a visit from me and Harry might cheer him up a bit." "Can't, Pads, sorry. Harry's got curfew, and you know the rule. He's not allowed outside Godric's Hollow without one of his parents or me." Sirius pouted at her, but she only shook her head, looking truly regretful. "Sorry. Maybe when someone finally gets rid of the threat, then we'll be safe and none of us will be in hiding anymore…" She sighed, as did he, and then he nodded and Disapparated with another loud crack. "Your Uncle Sirius wants to get us in trouble again, Harry, what do you think of that?" "Si-wus," he said, then grinned up at her from his chair.  
"That's right, Sirius! A troublemaker if I ever saw one." "Jazz. Jazz give Harry juice now." Smiling at her nephew's limited grasp of grammar and vocabulary, she poured more juice into his cup and picked him up. She carried him up to his room and they sat on the floor, playing with Harry's miniature Quidditch set until the boy's eyes started to droop.  
He fussed when she tried to put him in his crib, so she held him, going into her room, still cradling him in her arms.  
She woke suddenly when a scream echoed through the house. Rubbing her eyes and cuddling a whimpering Harry, she heard her brother's voice. "Lily! Find Harry, take him and Jazz and go! I'll hold him off!" Despite screaming instincts to stay in her room, Jazz ran out into the hall to see a wide-eyed Lily Potter come charging up the stairs. She looked relieved to see Jazz and Harry safe, and took her son from his aunt's arms.  
"Apparate to Sirius' flat, Lils. Keep Harry safe. I'm going to help James." As she set her foot on the top step, there was a ringing crash from downstairs and yell of pain from her brother, viciously cut short. "No!" she whispered, voice agonized. Bounding down the stairs two at a time, she found her brother lying in a boneless heap on the floor. Kneeling to take his pulse, as she'd been trained, she failed to notice Lily, behind her, tears flooding from her eyes, coming down the stairs.  
"Move side, girl," demanded a high, cruel voice. "Move aside!" "Not Harry, please, not him. Take me instead, please, not Harry!" Jazz turned, slowly, and saw the terrifying sight. Voldemort loomed over her sister-in-law, pointing his wand at her and her son. Lily shoved Harry onto the step behind her, protecting him with her body. Her eyes were on James' still form and Jazz felt a surge of bile rise in her throat._ How did he find us? _rang through her head._ Only Peter and Sirius knew! How did he find us here?  
_"Move aside, you silly girl!" Voldemort ordered.  
And then Jazz saw how the Dark Lord had found the Potter home, protected as it was by a powerful Fidelius Charm. Peter Pettigrew stood just off to one side, watching the scene with a look of morbid fascination on his face. If she'd been coherent; if her twin had not been lying on the floor in front of her, she'd have seen the futility of trying to attack Peter without her wand. As it was, though, she wasn't coherent._  
"Avada Kedavra," _whispered Voldemort. A flash of green light, a rushing sound, and with a thump, Lily Potter tumbled to the floor, dead, leaving Harry sitting defenseless on the step, looking first at his mother and then at the looming figure above him. "And now," the evil lord hissed gleefully, turning his wand on the infant. "You will plague me no more._ Avada Kedavra." _The green light flashed, but instead of a rushing sound, an infant's wail resounded in the dark. Voldemort's high, cold, cruel laugh was cut short as the world around them exploded, sending flaming rubble out onto the massive grounds. Jazz was knocked flat, halfway towards a smirking Peter, and he was flung aside as well. After a moment, the only sound to be heard in the dark Halloween night was the howl of young Harry Potter.  
_It was horrifying because I saw, for the first time, my brother's murder. And I was helpless to stop it, to do anything for my screaming nephew. When I returned to the wizarding world after almost ten years outside of it, suffering from amnesia, I could remember only flashes from my school days. Names and faces, smiles and frowns. I remembered no one fully, nor did I remember the last thing I'd seen before succumbing to the blackness of oblivion: Harry, my little nephew Harry, being picked up by the old Hogwarts groundskeeper, Hagrid.  
Because those events in my vision happened, just as they appeared to me. And like any of my other true dreams, I was unable to stop them, though I recognized them. Oh yes, I recognized them, as they happened on that Halloween night in 1981.


	2. Hidden Memories

**New York, 1996**  
Jasmine held a hand to her forehead to block out the sun glinting off the skyscrapers around her and looked up. It was the fifth time that day that she had seen birds swooping by her apartment. She sighed when she couldn't spot it and went back to sorting her supplies. She was packing for her annual trip to some foreign country and their medical seminar.  
Glancing at the brochure on the desk next to her, she recalled that this year's seminar was in London. Vaguely, she recalled having been to London before. She knew she had a British accent, so she knew that she was probably from somewhere in England. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't remember. Fifteen years ago, she'd been wandering around England with a pocketful of money and no memory of who she was.  
Discovering the habit of labeling her clothes with her name had told her that she was Jasmine Potter, but not much else. She had wandered about for a while until she'd come across a family of Americans vacationing in England, who wanted something of an au pair for their three children for a few months in New York. Eagerly, Jasmine took the job, hoping she'd remember something about who she was.  
That was fifteen years ago, and she was nearing her thirty-sixth birthday. She had only fifteen years of memories, with a few vague names and faces and flashes of memory from the nineteen years before her sudden awakening in London. She was a registered and trained nurse, traveling during summers, working at the local high school as the school nurse during the rest of the year, occasionally volunteering at the nearest hospital on weekends.  
The phone rang. Absently, she picked it up. "Jazz," she said by way of greeting.  
_"Hey, babe,"_ said the voice of her boyfriend, Taj. _"I was wondering if you still want me to take you to the airport?"_ She grinned, knowing he was trying to get out of it. She blinked suddenly as a mental picture asserted itself in front of her eyes and she felt ice trickle down her spine. _"Babe?"_  
"Uh…no, um, no, Taj, that's fine. I can get a cab." She blinked away the picture of her most recent boyfriend with another woman and sighed. "I'll talk to you later."  
_"Thanks, babe. I'll see you when you get back."_ He hung up and she stared at the phone in her hand before she set it down. It was getting to be a pattern, she was noticing. Every single one of the relationships she'd had in the past fifteen years, from the time she was nineteen until now, had ended because she'd had some sort of paranoid delusion that her boyfriend was sleeping around while she was gone. It didn't help that every single one of those visions turned out to be true. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.  
The sooner she got out of New York, the happier she'd be. She returned to her inventory and spent the next four hours packing everything she'd need for her trip. Picking up her phone as she pulled on her shoes, she dialed the front desk.  
_"Yes, Miss Potter?"_  
"Hey, Jeremy. Could I get a cab to the airport, please?"  
_"Of course. Should I send someone for your luggage?"_ The old doorman had taken quite a shine to her, which made her smile.  
"Thanks, but no. I'm traveling light this time, and I think I can handle it."  
_"Your cab will be here shortly, miss."_  
She grinned as she hung up and looked around, in case she'd forgotten something vital. Seeing noting she couldn't live without for the next two months, she left the apartment and locked the door behind her, pocketing the key and heading down the hall towards the elevator.  
Arriving in the lobby, she waved off Jeremy's attempts to help her with her suitcase and smiled when he opened the door of the cab for her, heaving her suitcase onto the seat next to her. "You call this light?" he teased. True, her suitcase was a lot heavier than it looked, something she couldn't quite get over. She could pack more in a smaller suitcase than anyone she knew in a larger one. "See you in a few months, Miss Potter."  
"Jeremy, I've told you, call me Jasmine!" She waved out the window as the cabbie pulled out into traffic. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes for the half hour ride to JFK. The cab pulled into passenger unloading and Jasmine tried to hand him money, but he grinned. "He paid you already, didn't he?" She shook her head, amused, and handed him a ten dollar bill for a tip, and then got out, dragging her small bag with her.  
Checking in was never a problem for her because she never checked her bag. This time, however, he'd packed a little too much. It turned out to be about an inch too big.  
Sighing, she checked it and received her claim check. "Have a nice flight, Miss Potter," the sales clerk chirped, already looking past her at the next person in line. Jasmine bristled but left, heading to a bookshop so she could buy something to keep her busy on the eight hour flight overseas.  
She left, amid the stammered thanks of the shop clerk, with a heavy canvas bag full of books and snacks of her own. She hid a smile. Teenagers always seemed to take to her. Even at thirty-six, she was still almost the same as she'd been at nineteen, if a little taller and with a few more wrinkles. She shouldered the bag easily and went to her gate to await the boarding of her plane, pulling out a first edition of The Lord of the Rings. She loved books about magic; she didn't quite know why she still harbored an almost obsessive liking for them, after so many years.  
She didn't read long, however, as the boarding call soon went out. She marked her page and boarded when she was called, settling quickly into her seat with her new bag on the floor between her feet.  
"Hello," said a quiet, polite voice above her. She looked up and offered a friendly smile to the man standing there. "I think that's my seat." He pointed to the window seat on her other side apologetically. She smiled and moved her legs to one side so he could slip past. She'd noticed his British accent. "Vacationing in London, or do you live there?" he asked conversationally, once he was settled in.  
"I'm actually vacationing there, though I think I may have once lived there." "You think?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She ducked her head to hide a smile; she was used to people asking that.  
"I don't remember anything before Halloween in 1981," she explained. "I was nineteen then, I think."  
"Fifteen years without memories! That's the most extreme case of amnesia I've ever heard of!"  
"I know. But some people never regain their memories," she pointed out. "I have a few snatches of my life before, if I strain. The only reason I know my own name is because I have this habit of buying clothes and writing my name on them. Don't know why I have the habit, but I'm grateful that I do." He nodded thoughtfully.  
"My name is Andrew Prewett," he said, offering a hand for her to shake.  
"Jasmine Potter," she replied. "It's nice to meet you."  
"And you," he said. They quickly turned to their own amusements as the plane lifted off, and Andrew fell asleep shortly thereafter. Flying east made the sun sink faster, and soon Jasmine was turning on the light above, hoping not to disturb her neighbor, who seemed to be dead.  
"Can I offer you something to drink, ma'am?" Jasmine looked up and smiled. "Do you have hot tea?" Even after fifteen years, she still had a craving for hot tea in the late afternoon, early evening. The attendant smiled and left to find some way of making her a cup of tea. He returned a few moments later with a steaming mug. "Thank you so much," she said, honestly grateful that he'd made her some. He nodded, smiled politely and moved on.  
She sipped until it was gone and glanced at her watch. The flight was plenty long and she decided to take her cue from Andrew and take a nap. She snapped off the light and pulled her sweater over her arms, leaning back her seat. Closing her eyes, she drifted off almost immediately.  
_The boy ran his hands through his messy black hair, glancing sideways around the lake at the pretty redhead surrounded by all her friends. Lily Evans, the one girl in school, besides Jazz, who could resist James Potter's charms. He sighed and tore his eyes away from Lily to look at Jazz, who was grinning at him.  
"I'm bored," Sirius sighed. "Exams are over and now we have nothing to do." "Remus seems to be occupied," Jazz pointed out, straightening from her tailor seat on the grass. "And I think I'll take my leave of you four now." She smiled and stretched. "It's far too nice a day to be sitting around thinking of ways to entertain him, what with his seconds-long attention span." Twiddling her fingers at her brother and his friends, she headed off towards Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley, who were sitting on the edge of the lake with their feet dangling in, throwing stones at the third and fourth years swimming in the cool water.  
_Andrew shook her shoulder gently and she mumbled, sitting up. "I don't think even you would like to be left sleeping on a plane when you can sleep in a bed." Jasmine nodded and shook her head to clear it of the dream…or was it a memory? She picked up her bag and sweater and stood. Andrew filed out of the plane behind her and stopped her suddenly with a hand on her arm. He handed her a small card. "If you need anything, give me a ring," he said, then loped away. Jasmine looked down at the business card and put it in her pocket, heading towards the car rentals, forgetting, for the moment, that she had checked a bag.

* * *

An hour later, red-faced and angry, she stood in front of customer service, her bag lost somewhere. "Fill out this form with contact information and we'll send your bag to you," the girl behind the counter said lazily, snapping her gum after ever few words. Jasmine glared at her and when the next bubble came, it burst and splattered all over the girl's face. She toppled off her chair with a squeak. Jasmine filled out the form and shoved it back at her, growling under her breath as she left.  
"Now what am I supposed to do?" she wondered aloud. Leaving the airport, she caught a cab to into the city.  
"Where to, miss?"  
"Anywhere I can get a drink," she murmured. The cabbie grinned and drove in silence for a while, finally stopping on a darkened street. "Thanks," she said, getting out and digging the fare from her wallet. He thanked her and drove off. She headed towards the pub he'd dropped her off at, but something caught her eyes across the street. A tiny, grimy pub was situated in between a gleaming bookstore and a large clothiers. "Odd place for such a dingy pub," she said, slightly intrigued. Crossing the street, she put a hand on the door. A tingle went through her as she pushed the door open.  
Silence fell as she entered the one-room bar and she looked about her in fascination. "Something we can help you with, miss?" an old, toothless man asked gingerly, coming around from behind the bar. She sensed wariness in everyone present.  
"I need a drink," she said clearly. "A strong one." The man nodded, tension leaving his shoulders, but not entirely. He poured her something and shuffled over to hand it to her. She sniffed warily and then shrugged, tossing it down. Only years of self-control kept her from screaming as the fire hit her throat. She managed to swallow and keep the tears of pain from her eyes. "And now a glass of water and maybe some tea," she rasped, crossing to a table and sitting. The bartender shook his head and went to get her what she'd ordered. He placed it in front of her and she thanked him with a smile.  
The door opened again, letting in streetlight, and closed quickly. "Hoy, Tom! The usual, it'll be!" The giant stepped into the light and Jasmine dropped her teacup with a gasp. The tinkling sound of shattering china turned heads. "Here now, who's this?"  
"I…I know you!" she whispered instead, face paper-white.  
"Everyone knows me!" he boasted. "I'm Rubeus…"  
"Hagrid," she finished with him. "I know you, but I don't!"  
"Who might you be, missie?"  
"Ja-Jasmine Potter," she said slowly. The reaction was instantaneous and intense. Hagrid choked and bent down to peer in her face. The silence of the pub became oppressive as everyone turned to look at her intently.  
"You're dead," Hagrid finally managed. 


	3. Finding Out

AN: I know this one's a bit short, but I wanted to update as fast as possible. The next one will be longer, but I am sick, so it may take a few days.

**London, 1996**

Jazz stared at him, seeing he was in dead earnest. She blinked and nodded. "Maybe the Jasmine Potter you knew is dead," she reasoned. "I certainly don't remember anything from before fifteen years ago."

"Jasmine Potter! To think, you've been alive this whole time," Hagrid whispered. He had tears in his eyes. "Dumbledore will be pleased, make no mistake, and young Harry too!" Jazz felt the color draining from her face when he said Harry.

"H-Harry…?" she whispered. She closed her eyes, straining to remember, but all she got was fog, and a flash of green light. "I…I don't…" Hagrid, looking slightly confused, sat on the bench opposite her.

"If you're alive, it means you can take him in! He won't have to stay with them Muggle relations he hates so much! The blood magic will work, because you're his blood!" She drew back from him.

"I don't think I'm fit to take in anyone, least of all someone I don't know," she said softly. He stared at her. "If I'm related to someone called Harry, it's news to me, sir," she continued, a bit more bravely. "As far as I knew, I am alone in the world. I woke up one morning fifteen years ago and discovered that I didn't know who I was."

"You were thought to be dead." Jazz and Hagrid looked up to find the barkeeper, Tom, standing by with a drink for the giant and a new cup of tea for Jazz. He set the tray down and offered her a smile. "It's good to be seeing you alive, at any rate." Then he hustled away as she picked up the second cup.

"Cheers," Hagrid said, raising his glass slightly and then tossing back some of it. Jazz motioned with hers and sipped thoughtfully. "Maybe if you saw Harry, you'd remember…" he mused quietly. Jazz opened her mouth to protest that she didn't want to, but he seemed to have decided and stood, mug in hand. Tossing back the rest of it, he pulled her bodily to her feet, book bag and all and towed her towards the fireplace. "All righ, then. Floo on to Dumbledore's office. I'll be right behind ye," he said. Jazz looked up at him blankly.

"Excuse me, Floo?" "Wha, ye don't know how to Floo now?" "I told you, I don't remember ANYTHING from before fifteen years ago," she said slowly, as though he were quite dense.

One of the patrons took pity on her. "Hagrid, why don't you do what you came here to do, and we'll explain the basics to her?" Jazz blinked at him, but Hagrid beamed and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to send him tumbling into the table. He got up, wiping off his robes with a smile as the giant ambled back through the building. "Now, Miss Potter."

"Jazz," she corrected. He smiled.

"Jazz," he agreed. "Floo powder," he said, indicating the flowerpot full of dust. "Throw it into the fire, step in after the flames turn green, and pronounce your destination clearly. Keep your elbows in and your eyes closed. As long as you speak clearly, you should be able to get out at the right grate."

Surprisingly, Jazz felt comfortable with these directions. She looked at the fire, then at the powder and sighed. _I suppose there's no getting out of this now._ "Right."

"Just say, 'Dumbledore's Office' and you'll be taken there." She nodded and took a handful of the powder and tossed it confidently into the flames, which turned immediately green, but not the green she remembered from her vision. She hitched the bag up on her shoulder and stepped in after taking a deep breath. Turning around, she regarded the room.

"Dumbledore's office," she said quietly, but clearly. With a rushing sound and a sucking feeling, the room disappeared. She squeezed her eyes shut as vertigo threatened to make her sick, but she instinctively cracked them open again as she remembered her orders and tucked her elbows in. In the back of her mind, she felt an odd familiarity and exhilaration and then she fell forward onto her arms.

Looking around as she stood, she was surprised to see a large round room with two tiers, the second accessed by a spiral staircase. She stood and brushed herself off warily, keeping an eye out for strange happenings.

A brilliant red and gold bird sat on a perch by a monstrous desk, peering at her curiously. "A phoenix," she breathed, startled that she knew what it was. A brilliant blue eye looked sharply at her. "I…I remember you…Fawkes," she whispered. He squawked once and fluffed himself as she tore her eyes away from the beautiful plumage and looked around. She saw the door, outlined in gold light, and curiosity overcame her, a trait she knew would someday probably kill her.

She opened it and, finding another spiral staircase, this one stone and much longer than the one inside, decided to take a trip, though she should probably stay put and wait for Hagrid.

She trotted down the stairs in a dizzying spiral until she reached a stone corridor. "This could prove to be more fun than I thought." She didn't know that at that moment, she more resembled her brother than at any time during their seven years in the selfsame building. Nor did she know that she knew precisely where she was. She simply followed what she thought was curiosity down the halls, eyes staring, wide open in fascination.  
She was astounded by the perfect symmetry of the huge double doors, and walked to them to examine the woodwork closer. One light touch, however, caused them to open and the dull murmur became a roar of voices as the Great Hall was revealed, packed with teenagers.

Her eyes went instantly to the staff table, met by the piercing blue eyes of the headmaster. He shot to his feet and the sudden silence hit her like a wave. She still couldn't remember, either. "Please, come in," he said softly, his voice rolling through the room like a tidal wave. She cleared her throat and took a step forward.

"I didn't mean to interrupt…um, Hagrid sent me to you."

"Come in, Jasmine, don't be shy." She froze, eyes wide.

"How do you know my name?"

"You look the same as you did fifteen years ago when I found you almost dead in the rubble of your home." The silence got really oppressive then. She stepped forward. "Please, come in, sit and eat." Jasmine squared her shoulders to walk in, but a cold voice rang in the stillness.

"Headmaster, I don't think…" Jazz' eyes snapped to the voice's owner.

"Severus Snape," she said, almost involuntarily. "My brother used to torment you in school," she added slowly. Then she seemed surprised. "I…have a brother. That's right." She looked again to Dumbledore, who regarded her sorrowfully. He walked around the staff table and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We should talk about this in my office. Severus…please come with us. Harry, I think you should come too." Harry Potter looked confused and traded looks with Ron, then shrugged and got up. Dumbledore smiled. "Bring them with you, if you like. It concerns the Weasleys as well." Ginny and Ron got up and followed, trailed by Hermione, forgotten for the moment. Then the procession made its way out of the Great Hall.

Only minutes later, they were seated around a fire in the headmaster's office, Jazz staring into the flames, the others staring at her. Blinking at the flickering light, she sighed. "I remember red, a lot of it. Red and gold and a lion taller than a house. A table piled with books and discarded paper. And four boys, the envy of the school. Only two people could resist his charms: me and…and…why can't I remember her name!?" she burst out, seeing the redhead from her dream in her mind's eyes but unable to recall her name.

"Her name was Lily Evans," Dumbledore told her gently.

"Lily…yes. Lily. She had green eyes and red hair and he was completely in love with her from the moment he saw her."

"You mean James Potter?" Harry asked, unable to contain his curiosity. Jazz actually looked up then, her blue eyes filled with something like fear.

"James…yes, that was his name."

"What did you mean, you and her were the only ones able to resist his charms?" Ginny asked, sitting in a chair across from her, dying to know why she and her brother were involved with this woman. Jazz smiled and looked back at the fire.

"She hated his arrogance, though it was well-deserved, I suppose. I was always better than him at practical things, but James was ruler of the Quidditch pitch. He'd have played for England if Lily hadn't been accepted into Auror training…" She trailed off, trying hard to remember more, now that her mind seemed to be flowing so easily. "I…I don't…I don't remember…" She looked up at Snape. "He used to call you something…he didn't like you much."

"Nor I him," the Potions master replied coolly.

"You were always better than him at Potions. It was something he could handle in his sister, but not in a Slytherin. Never in a Slytherin…" She lookd back to the fire. "He had hazel eyes, and messy black hair…always running his fingers through it…he never could kick that habit…" Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder.

"Where have you been for fifteen years?" he asked gently. "Perhaps we should start there."


End file.
